The day after tomorrow
by Heidinanookie
Summary: Only one question remains in Peters mind after his cruel vision of the future: Was he an innocent - a victim of destiny, or a villain about to meet his just end? My first English FF. PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW even if it's only to point out mistakes !


_**Spoilers: This story works with the information given in the first half of the first "Heroes"-season**_

_**Disclaimer: Guess what? "Heroes" is not mine :D**_

_**Summary: He had never killed anybody before. Now he was wondering what it would feel like. To kill. To die. Would it make a difference that he was taking his own life instead of another for his first murder, his final sin? Was he an innocent - a victim of destiny, or a villain about to meet his just end?**_

_._

_The day after tomorrow  
_

As they where standing on the high roof, looking out over the city so full of life that they could clearly hear the bustle even from their high look-out the Invisible Man voiced the same point Peter had wracked his mind over for quite some time now: Maybe it would be the best thing if he were killed right now where he stood before there was even the slightest chance that he could bring any harm to the people around him. Thoughts of the Nevada desert entered his mind again and surrounded him with the loneliness of a doomed man as the pieces clicked into place more firmly than ever before. He could not learn to control what could not be controlled. There was no point in trying any longer. He bend his head to the inevitable then, turning quietly away from the view of the high roof tops and deep urban canyons as he pulled out his cell phone again to finish the call he'd started two days ago. Hopefully, there was still a seat free on a plane to Las Vegas.

.

As the aircraft carried him across the sky at 800 miles an hour he considered how he would proceed. A simple but effective plan began to form in his head. He'd rent a car at the airport that would bring him out into the desert, buy a compass and a map to guide him as far from civilisation as he could go – and get a gun. This was really one of the most stupid things in the whole of America, he thought: That any idiot could get himself a weapon in the super market and nobody would ask any questions about the purpose of the purchase. In his case, he was glad about that, even though it was his goal to save the world. He wanted to be alone with this decision.  
When he nodded off in his seat the dream came again as if to confirm that his way of action was the only right choice.

.

The woman at the car renting counter asked him when he planed to bring back the vehicle. He knew that he could not answer the question truthfully: that he would never have a chance to return it. He didn't know what would happen once he pulled the trigger, if his body would silently and unceremoniously sink to the ground where it would dry and rot in the desert heat or if he would only bring forward what was about to happen anyway and utterly destroy his surroundings, which was exactly why he'd chosen the location for his desperate deed under the wide, colourless sky of the loneliest of places. Anyway, it didn't matter if the car would be destroyed or remain as a decaying wreck in the middle of nowhere till the end of days.  
"The day after tomorrow," Peter said, not meeting the woman's eyes.

.

In the long and lonely car ride he had in front of him Peter had a lot of time to sort his thoughts. He hadn't left any indication of his intentions and he didn't plan to talk to anybody about this. No goodbye-calls or letters. As far as his family and friends were concerned, he would simply disappear off the face of the earth never to be seen again. They didn't have to know what he was going through, what he would put himself through to make them safe. He didn't want them to feel guilty. Nathan wouldn't understand, anyway, he thought. It was best if he was left alone in the troubles of pre-election. He had enough on his plate right now and if his useless brother would vanish out of his life that would give him one less thing to keep in his much too occupied mind. After the elections were over… well, Peter didn't intend to turn up again so he was safe from the wrath he knew his actions would spark in his brother. The wrath that accompanied grief, but would eventually die away and lead to acceptance and understanding.  
There was someone else for whom his disappearing act would bring a sense of normality again: Simone. If he was gone, she was free to return to Isaac, into the arms of true and lasting love. She did not deserve to be bound to the human time bomb he was and the frail romance that had begun to thrive between them would be nothing more than a brief kiss of fortune, a sweet memory of what was not meant to be.  
No one of them would ever know his fate.

.

As the merciless sun was beating down onto the roof of the car Peter's thoughts turned sluggish and sleepy. Gradually a peace began to settle on him that he'd never felt before. This was his last journey. The scenery fitted his insides. Vast and empty, devoid of anything threatening or worth missing. As the sun sank towards the horizon and dazzled him with her red light he marvelled at the loveliness of the devastated landscape. Who could have known that such beauty could be found out here?

When the last light of the dying day began to drain from the sky, he turned off the road. The compass would be his guide now in his search for the spot farthest away from any civilisation. Soon a star-spangled dome of deep-blue silk was stretching over him, from horizon to horizon, like a protective blanket and the darkness enveloped the car in contemplative silence. Peter turned off the headlights as the moon rose over the distant mountains, flooding the plains with its enchanting silver light that made the world look distant and the sky close enough to touch. It seemed to illuminate even the last corner of his mind with clear understanding and an ever-growing peace. He had made the right decision. All he needed to do was carry on until he ran out of gas. Even if he'd wanted to turn back, now that everything was set, he couldn't have. The tank was already much less than half full. He would die in the desert, no matter what - and the hour was drawing near. He could feel it as the night drew to an end. He could smell it in the air that was beginning to stir in the faint morning breeze. He could see it in the brightening sky as yet another new day began to dawn. The last day of his life.

.

He didn't know how long he had been driving when the car finally rolled to a stop, the sound of the engine dying with a few feeble coughs. It was still early in the day. The sun had lifted itself only a few degrees above the horizon. The daily heat of the desert had already dispelled the chill of the night when Peter slowly unbuckled his seat belt and opened the car door snatching his shiny-new nine-millimeter off the passenger seat. Why was he even bothering to rise? He could die sitting in his car. The outcome would be the same. Peter sighed, needlessly brushing away a strand of his dark hair that was dangling in his face and wiping away the sweat that was already gathering on his brow from the young sun's rays. His feet hit the dust with a crunching sound as he stood and looked around, shading his eyes from the light with his free hand. He knew from the map that he should be far enough away from anything erected higher than a cactus but he wanted to check the perimeter himself, looking far of in the distance, where earth and sky were mingling in a haze of glimmering heat.

Suddenly he felt like he was the last human being in a wasteland that had once been beautiful green Earth. An unbearable loneliness took hold of him and made his eyes tear up with longing for human company. Who could have known that he didn't want to be so utterly alone in the end, after all? But there was no way to escape this solitude now and no point in wishing he were not just by himself. The hurt left his brown eyes as they filled with resolution. Nothing could be gained from drawing this out any longer.  
He shifted his gaze to the weapon in his hand, contemplated its weight, staring idly down at it while he tried to decide whether it would be better to hold the barrel to his temple or put it into his mouth. It probably didn't matter. His end would be swift, he hoped, maybe even painless, no matter where he aimed as long as it was in the general direction of his brain. Peter drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

He had never killed anybody before. Now he was wondering what it would feel like. To kill.

To die.

Would it make a difference that he was taking his own life instead of another for his first murder, his final sin? Was he an innocent - a victim of destiny, or a villain about to meet his just end?

There was no fear now, no sweating palms, no shaking hands. It was a small mercy of the Gods that he should die without the burden of that feeling. Still, it was not natural to be so calm in the face of death. Maybe he _was_ because he'd truly recognized his destiny. This was his reward.

Walking a few steps away from the car he dipped his head back to look at the cloudless sky. It already began to take on the washed-out pale blue colour it always seemed to have out here. About time he brought this to a close.  
There was no more hesitation. His movements were steady as he lifted the hand holding the weapon and put the muzzle just below the hair line on the side of his face. The metal was cool against his skin, almost sharp. He didn't know where to look, so he focused on the horizon beyond which his last journey would take him. Drawing another breath he felt his heart beat speeding up, despite all the preparations he'd gone through for this moment, in a feeble attempt to warn him of the danger he posed to himself. Of course it was useless.

Peter emptied his mind of all conscious thought, letting return the quiet of the previous night drive, as he allowed his finger to contract around the trigger, propelling the single bullet in the barrel into his scull, ripping through bone and tissue, leaving a path of irreparable destruction in its wake, and ultimately delivering his salvation.

.

The shot echoed in the vast emptiness of the desert. A spray of tiny blood droplets glittered in the sunlight as they splashed from the wound on the opposite side of his head in a graceful arc and splattered the sand around him as the light died in his eyes and they drifted shut, unseeing. The red colour mingled with the dust like the reviving rain. His body relaxed and sagged into a heap on the sandy ground, accompanied by a whispering sound of rustling cloths, completely limp. A dull 'thud' and the disturbed dust settled onto his motionless form as if he were already part of the desert, his still body sprawled out on the earth with dark blood pooling silently around his head to soak the sand, his skin already marble-white. Otherwise everything stayed completely silent as if the person lying there had already been forgotten or worse, hadn't even existed, the Nevada sun being the only witness of the drama.  
It was over. The world was saved and no one would ever know. The day after tomorrow would be just the same as _today_.

_THE END_


End file.
